


December's Rain

by Yori



Category: Norn9
Genre: F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yori/pseuds/Yori
Summary: To Akito, Nanami was like snow.





	

To Akito, Nanami was like snow.

Crumbling with just one wrong touch, she shies away and melts, slipping through his fingers before he could even hold her. The words they exchanged every day were equally cold; filled with bitterness and contempt that none of them ever politely acknowledged. It always had to end in some form of skirmish. And somewhere in the middle, Kakeru always had to interfere in his own sadistic ways. It was an endless cycle, he knew. But he couldn't ever forget the winters she had brought in his life for as long as he ever shall live.

Amidst her turbulent storms however, she remains an enchanting presence. His feelings for her were obviously romantic. He had always liked her quiet strength, even when they were children. Perhaps it was also his boyish heart (feeling betrayed) that caused him to act so childishly with her. His heart still ached for her, even if his mind told him she was a person meant to be hated.

She came into his life like an avalanche. Sworn to never see her again, fate was tragically cruel and tied their red strings too tightly for their own comfort.

**"Akito! You're boarding the Norn too?"**

_**"So? What's that got to do with you?"** _

And the words he desperately wanted to say got bitten to dust--cold crystals of ice like her heart that showed no mercy, nor salvation.

She was heartless and cruel, like the harsh winters of December. He vividly remembered the way she held Senri's little hands: a faint purple light glowing as fragments of himself vanished in his brother's memories. He begged and pleaded, but in the end, she betrayed him.

The day that she helped him escape from their village still baffled him to this day.

And yet, like snow, she was also fleeting.

The tears that fell on her eyes as he pushed her away made him question his longtime impression of her. This was not the Nanami he knew. The Nanami in his past was devoid of any emotion. Like a robot, she follows her orders perfectly. She was steel. She held no guilt--easily removing anyone's memories without batting an eyelash.

To that Nanami, memories were mere catalogs of past experiences. To give them a sentimental meaning would only cripple her with weaknesses.

But why is the Nanami boarding the Norn...so different? Why is this Nanami so...filled with life? And why did it hurt his heart every time she tells him her life "has no meaning", and "she is meant to atone for her past sins with death?"

**"Yet, I know, Akito...death can never erase the sins I have done to you. I will live with this burden for the rest of my life..."**

**"It was never your fault. Please be angry with me as you please. Hate me, curse me. You can even kill me if it would ease your pain..."**

**"How can you say that so easily? How are you so sure that I am not deluding myself? My powers...only cause pain. Once my purpose is completed, I shall happily seclude myself so I would not hurt anyone again."**

~~**"I'm sorry...Akito..."** ~~

* * *

 

Her words echoed in his thoughts, leaving him in his musing. With a fond look in his face, he glanced at her profile by the distance. With Heishi, she was smiling. The faint blush on her face as the older male held her close reddened, the more as their hands intertwined. She was happy now. Heishi could give her the happiness he knew she thought she would never deserve.

With a soft sight escaping him, he turned away from the spectacle and looked up at the sky.

**"Snow..."**

He cupped a handful of the falling, white crystals and placed it close to his lips.

A kiss of farewell, he thought: to the winters of his unrequited love.


End file.
